


Balance Between Extremes

by oh_demoted_short_one



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Overstimulation, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 08:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10184624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_demoted_short_one/pseuds/oh_demoted_short_one
Summary: "Sometimes it's this long involved thing, it takes all day, leaves you walking funny..."Oh, realllyy?  Yes. Let's. With Dorian.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly what I get for once again starting this game.
> 
> There will be a second installment, where Bull is the one to be put down but this is what I have for now. There isn't enough Bottom!Bull, imho.

"I cannot be the only person that windmills precariously between the two extremes of wanting complete independence and never wanting to make any decisions ever again," Dorian sighs to Bull one evening, after far too little ale to excuse admitting such things.

He is still only just starting to settle into being Tal-Vashoth. There's a box in his room filled with reports he'd written before it happened that will never be sent now. He'll never receive any again either.

"No," the Bull says slowly, "You definitely aren't."

\---------------------------------

Sometimes Dorian likes not knowing what will happen during the evening he spends with the Bull. On others he appreciates having it laid out for him preliminarily. On such occasions the Bull has taken great pleasure in doing so.

"Tonight," Bull tells Dorian while he ties the man's hands behind his back, "all of your coming is going to happen," the knot is pulled tight, "right here in my lap."

They've had sex upright before, and of course he has 'ridden' the Bull, but to date the two concepts have not coincided. Mostly it has had to do with there being no chairs in Skyhold large enough to accommodate the weight of both of them at once, let alone any strenuous movements. Since the arrival of the Inquisitor's shipment of Qunari-inspired furniture that has changed.

Dorian nods his acknowledgment, pulling experimentally at his ties. Not too tight, not bound to come loose unexpectedly. Perfect. He relaxes into the hands on his bare hips, lets himself be guided to sit astride Bull's lap facing him. They're both still mostly soft, but that's bound to change quite soon. 

The cloth of Bull's trews scratches at the backs of his thighs and makes him sigh. 

"Mmm," Bull hums when Dorian moves back and forth incrementally, "You're going to be nice and pink by the time we're done."

"Here's how things're gonna happen," he squeezes Dorian's hips slightly, moves him down a little so he can feel the fabric up against his sack, just to hear him gasp, "First you're going to come like this, with my hand wrapped around this pretty cock."

The aforementioned hand brushes up on Dorian before taking hold of him and quickly bringing him from soft to fully erect.

"Then you'll come sitting on my fingers." His strokes aren't very long by virtue of his hand only being slightly less than the length of Dorian while full blooded but are certainly enough to make him cry out when he squeezes at the tip _just. like. that._

"And finally," he's pulling Dorian down into his lap now, making the man grind down against his cock. He can feel the tip of it just slightly wet through Bull's pants rubbing up against his ass, and he wants so badly, "I'm going to bring you off one last time while I fuck you full of my come." 

Dorian throbs, and squeezes his thighs together as much as he can, and spends himself all over Bull's hand. He's not exactly young anymore, and the speed with which he was brought over the edge leaves him reeling dizzy. Bull's growling exhalations rumble from deep in his chest up through the cheek Dorian has pressed against the man's shoulder.

The minute or so that he gets to regain his breath is nowhere near sufficient. When Bull moves the hand at his hip to his nape and hauls him into a consuming kiss he's already breathless. The wet fingers that start circling his asshole make him jerk away but the hand cradling his skull holds him fast in place. The only recourse left is to gasp into Bull's mouth.

"Shh," Bull murmurs while he takes his time feeling out the area behind Dorian's balls. He seems content to take his time now that he has Dorian in a more liquid state. The little brushes against Dorian's oversensitive sack make him hiss but continued fondling soothes them. Bull notes his prick is even trying valiantly to rise again.

When the questing fingers return to Dorian's ass they find the muscle more yielding than before. At this point if Bull wanted he could probably slip a finger right in. He still takes the time to tease, of course. Circling and nudging but not actually putting so much as a fingertip inside. It makes Dorian contract and flutter at even slight brush, and it's done long enough that when Bull does finally press in, the small hole opens to both digits. 

It's still a bit much to take at once, and Dorian makes that known with a reedy sort of whine that makes Bull twitch his fingers a little to hear it again. Soon the tentative back and forth Bull initially sets up transitions into smooth rolling movements of in, out, palm that soft reddened sack, and so on in rhythm. 

Dorian rocks into the motions nicely, swaying back against Bull's hand then up into his languid kisses. This part more than anything soothes and settles Dorian. His movements are liquid, his exhalations pleasured sighs. His bound hands, when Bull reaches back to check, are relaxed in their bindings. 

"Hmm," Bull hums appreciatively as he takes hold of Dorian's hair and gently pulls him back to get a better look, "Fuckin' gorgeous like this."

Usually he has to tilt Dorian's head back with a hand under his jaw to get a kiss when they fuck but today Dorian leans back in almost immediately without any prompting. His lips are lush from spit slicked kisses, which Bull is more than happy to trade while he opens him up on a third finger. That little _**"uh, uh"**_ Dorian breathes against his chin when he gives him a fourth is even better.

He's slowly getting more urgent in his movements, while Bull keeps his own pace going steady. Every other pull out is accompanied a little tug to Dorian's balls now, and Bull has started thumbing and pinching his nipples into red spots of painpleasure on the upswing. Despite the fact that he isn't actually lifting up or down, sweat has gathered across Dorian's shoulders, has broken out in the small of his back and dripped down his ass and thighs. 

Bull can feel the tension building in his spine, and his cock has gone a deep red. Every minute or so his hands jerk as if to bring them around before he remembers that they're all bound up. 

He lets Dorian work himself into a desperate froth, uncoordinated rocking warring with Bull's own steady cadence. It must still feel great, from the bitten off sounds Dorian makes, but it seems to tip over into perfect when Bull pulls him a little closer and lets him rock his dick up against one hip. That's where he comes, when Bull stops avoiding that spot inside him that makes him howl.

In the aftermath Dorian feels vaguely raw. His dick is a little sore. His shoulders are starting to tighten up. He's breathing hard. He's sweating. Bull is four fingers deep inside him. But his mind is quiet, even if his body is not. Bull's fixing the other things even as Dorian notices them. He's supporting Dorian so he can breathe more freely, removing those fingers, and--oh! replacing them with his cock!

The sensation, being so empty one moment as to ache and then filled to a different ache another, draws sound from deep within Dorian. It isn't necessarily a moan, but a long hissing sigh. Adjustment, fulfillment. He's not soft, not after two orgasms, but his ass doesn't hurt, which is the important thing. And when Bull starts to rock up into him gently it's certainly not unpleasant. He was quite thorough when assuring that Dorian would be open enough to take him.

"That's it big guy," Bull grunts when Dorian sinks into things, lets Bull take over fully, "Just relax. I gotcha." 

He lets Bull move him, which a lot of people do from go, but Dorian takes a while to get there, and it makes things sweet when he does. He goes on instinct then, shifts into Bull's hands, leans up against him more fully for support. Doesn't stop any of the sounds that make their way up his throat. One day Bull will bring him to this point and keep him there _**for hours.**_ Dorian will let him. But today he wants Dorian deeper than that. 

They're both breathing like bellows, Bull from manipulating them both and Dorian from the pressure and pleasure and pain of it all. He wants more but not; every movement makes his thighs tremble and his balls scrape against Bull's open pants and his prick twitch painfully with the constant pummeling of his prostate. 

And then Bull gets a glint in his eye, and Dorian almost tries to pull away because that glint means things are going to happen. Things that Dorian will love but also hate.

Bull maintains eye contact while he makes his move. Wraps his hand around Dorian's poor cock and just. _Holds it._ Now every breath exhales on a cry or a whine or a hiss. Bull has rough hands. Dorian typically loves this, feeling the contrast between callouses and his own soft skin. Now it's torture. 

There's no shortage of slick to be had of course, with him covered in his own spend twice over and sweat abounding, but still. It hurts in the way that only oversensitivity can. His nerves are alight every moment and the minutes only seem to grow longer. It's almost too much, and he almost breaks the spell of things, breaks his silence, calls it enough. 

But Bull just holds, and then squeezes, once, twice, and Dorian's body makes the decision for him, and moves into it instead of away. And Dorian thinks maybe he ought to listen, because it still hurts, but it also feels dipped in pleasure. Like dripping candle wax. An edge of flame that leaves behind only searing warmth.

Bull is close now. He's pulling Dorian down harder, moves his hand on Dorian's cock to drag him down into the fire too. And it burns. His muscles are all tightening, and he's gone almost quiet, except for a few whines escaping his gritted teeth. His hands are clenched tight, his balls have drawn up against his body and throb in time with their thrusting.

"One more Dorian," Bull spurs him on, sets his teeth against Dorian's bobbing throat, "Come on," licks a hot stripe up to Dorian's ear, growls, _"I wanna feel you tighten up around my cock!"_

Dorian screams, and spasms around Bull, and comes until he cries from it. Faintly, behind the deafening silence of release he hears Bull coming too, **"Fuck! Yes!"** but doesn't feel the warmth spread through him. The only heat comes from his core, moving through his limbs and making them immovable in the process. 

Silence. Blessed silence within him. The only decision whether to move or not, which is to say none at all because not bloody likely, not any time soon. Just he and Bull, breathing, gradually ticking down. Bull untying his arms and rubbing feeling back into them, easing away the ache in his shoulders, not making any move to take him to bed. His own hands, one coming up to the back of Bull's neck, a kiss, the other settling with him on the shoulder not pillowing his head, a sigh against Bull's collarbone. 

_Silence._


End file.
